Sunday, October 2, 2011

The Seeking of the Gnarl



         The Seeking of the Gnarl
            (With respect to Lewis Carroll.)

            “Just the site for a Gnarl!” the Byteman said
            as he signalled his e-mates with glee;
            “So let’s download the Gnarl! We’ll soon have it read
            into Java and Pascal and C!”
           
            “So Seek Ye The Gnarl! I know that it’s near;
            we’ll download it quick as a waltz.
            If I’m not mistaken, a Gnarl is near;
            for if not, then this sentence is false!”
                       
            The staff was complete; a Bishop, a Boss,
            a Builder of Pentagon Bombs;
            a Bureaucrat, present to guard against loss;
            and a Broker, to value their bonds.
           
            A Basketball Player, whose height was immense
            might perhaps have earned more than his share;
            but a Banker, engaged at enormous expense
            had all their e-cash in his care.

            There was also a Bluebird who managed a cache
            and would not (as they say) have a cow;
            who had often (said Byteman) prevented a crash
            though none of the hackers knew how.

            ****
            They web-surfed with symbols, they up-linked with care;    
            they scanned every path, link and node;
            they sullied its Slack with a Microsoft share;
            they charmed it with guile and code.

            ****
            “A dear guru of mine, whom I found on the line
            once informed me, on hearing my plan,
            ‘If your Gnarl be a Gnarl, that is fine, Bobby mine
            even though you still work for the Man.’

            ‘You may serve it as dreams, or as alternate baits;
            You can keep any cash it collects;
            It’ll make a great profit at interest rates,
            and it’s handy for special effects.’
           
            ‘But O, beamish Bobby, beware of the day
            that your Gnarl be buggy! for then
            your files will quietly vanish away
            and never be accessed again!’
           
            “So Bytemeister, now that the Gnarl is near
            I think of what ‘Bob’ himself said;
            the Pipe-Smoker’s warning resounds in my ear;
            it is this, it is this, that I dread!”

            ****

            They web-surfed with symbols, they up-linked with care;
            they scanned every path, link and node;
            they sullied its Slack with a Microsoft share;
            they charmed it with guile and code.

            ****

            “If I’m not mistaken, then that is a glitch!”
            said Bureaucrat, eager and proud;
            “Which proves it exists! There’s no other way which
            I could utter that sentence aloud.”
           
            The Bishop brought paper, portfolios, pens
            and ink in unending supplies
            to Bureaucrat, that he might, right there and then
            go prove it to skeptical eyes.
           
            “If I’m not mistaken, then that is a glitch!
            A statement tremendous, though trite;
            It forces the glitch through a binary switch,
            for either it’s wrong, or it’s right!”
           
            “And if it is wrong then (do not think too long)
            it is right, though the glitch isn’t there;
            so if it is wrong, then it’s right! By this prong
            we conclude it is right; so I swear.”



            “But since it is right, then it shows us the light
            when it says it implies there’s a glitch;
            and since it is right, we conclude it has might;
            so the argument ends without hitch.”
           
            “ ‘If I’m not mistaken, then that is a glitch’
            creates one as quick as a waltz.
            This sentence implies that there must be a glitch;
            for if not, then this sentence is false!”
           
            The Bishop replied with a delicate snore
            more eloquent even than tears
            that the Bureaucrat taught him of Logic far more     
            than the Bishop had thought of in years!

            ****

            They web-surfed with symbols, they up-linked with care;    
            they scanned every path, link and node;
            they sullied its Slack with a Microsoft share;
            they charmed it with guile and code.
           
            ****

            “It’s a Gnarl!” then suddenly flashed on their screens;
            and they shouted to give him a hug;
            then all of their cheering transformed into screams
            when the Bobbie transmitted, “It’s bug - ”
           
            Then, bluescreen. Some fancied they found on the Net
            a weary and wandering sign
            translating to “ - gy!”, but the others would bet
            that it only was noise on the line.
           
            They net-surfed ‘til morning came on, but they found
            neither URL, nor gibber, nor snarl
            by which they could access and gaze on the site
            where the Bobbie downloaded the Gnarl.
           
            In the midst of the GIF he was trying to save
            in the midst of his pressing a key
            his files all quietly vanished away...
            for the Gnarl was buggy, you see!

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